


Sick Leave

by waldorph



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-08
Updated: 2008-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-02 19:29:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waldorph/pseuds/waldorph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin has the flu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Leave

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Уход за больным](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1801093) by [sKarEd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sKarEd/pseuds/sKarEd)



> [Podfic available as an mp3](http://jinjurly.com/audfiles/1200903243.zip), read by ** ibactrass ** (right click, save as)

Arthur doesn't come looking for Merlin.

Gaius wouldn't expect him to. Uther certainly never came looking for Gaius, and as far as Arthur is different from his father, he is still Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon.

Beside that, his father has him so busy it's a wonder Merlin has time to find things to complain about. Honestly, Gaius has heard of preparing one's child to take over the family business, and running a country is an impressive business to be sure, but between training the knights (and thus Camelot's army), managing the policing forces (which aren't all knights, because some of them come from less-than-noble families), overseeing harvests and plantings, solving minor city disputes, courting whichever noblewoman Uther thrusts at him in order to soften up her father, and mediating between Uther and Morgana, it's a wonder the boy gets any sleep.

Gaius is past the point of trying to make this clear to Merlin. He thinks perhaps Merlin doesn't understand how unusual his own position is. The Crown Prince risked life and limb and imprisonment (and thus public humiliation) to fetch the antidote to a poison. Granted, it's Merlin, and he's not just any servant, but Arthur doesn't know that.

The point is, just because Merlin is laid up in bed with a fever, having retched up everything he's ever eaten (and, Gaius suspects, most of the bile in his stomach and larger intestine), Gaius did not expect Arthur to come looking for him.

And for the first day, Arthur doesn't.

But the next day, when Gaius gets done with his rounds (he doesn't remember them having taken so long, he's gotten old when he wasn't looking), there are two voices in Merlin's quarters.

The prince is idly cleaning things up, belt and scabbard laid across one of the chests in Merlin's room. Gaius watches quietly, sitting at his work desk. Merlin is raised up, propped against the pillow. His hair is sweaty and stuck to his chalky, translucent forehead, and his eyes are glassy but his chapped lips are smiling. He says something that makes Arthur turn and give him a long look. Gaius can imagine that look- Arthur casts it frequently in Merlin's direction. It is a look of "I cannot believe you just said that" and also "You idiot" and it screams (to Gaius at least) "Friend."

Merlin shudders- no, he shivers, and the prince shrugs out of his jacket and sits on the edge of the bed. He bends and slides his boots off, and Gaius raises his eyebrows in curiosity.

They've left the door open, and while Merlin may be that naive, Arthur is not. Besides, Merlin is in no condition for any…amorous behavior. If his royal highness tries anything Gaius will have a few strong words to say about it, prince or no prince.

Arthur simply lifts Merlin a bit, sliding into the bed next to him and allowing Merlin to sprawl against his chest, head over Arthur's heart, arm slung across his chest. Arthur pulls the covers up to Merlin's chin, wraps both arms around him. Merlin says something that makes Arthur tell him to shut up (Gaius is familiar enough with that expression passing the prince's lips he could lip-read it anywhere, possibly even from a mile away). Merlin's eyes smile, and he burrows down, probably seeking out more heat.

That's good. It means the fever is on the verge of breaking.

Gaius lifts himself up, walks up the steps.

Arthur's eyes are calm. He doesn't flinch, doesn't look wary. He simply smiles slightly at Gaius, as though sharing a moment of empathy for dealing with Merlin, and Gaius finds himself smiling back, shaking his head and shutting the door.

Morgana has a habit of bursting in (never mind Uther), and Gaius doesn't want to deal with it.

It's Gwen who pokes her head in. "I just wanted to- erm, see Merlin?" she hazards.

"Oh, he's got a touch of the stomach illness," Gaius dismisses. "He's sleeping now, but I'll tell him you stopped by. I expect him on his feet tomorrow, perhaps the day after."

"That's good," she smiles, and she is a lovely girl. Kind, strong, brave in her own way. In some ways she reminds him of Igraine. "Thank you, Gaius."

Gaius smiles after her, and returns to work.

Two hours later he brings in food, and a vial.

Arthur is reading, his cheek propped against Merlin's head, Merlin still fast asleep. He glances up.

"Can he eat?" he asks, frowning.

"No!" Gaius laughs quietly. "Not unless you want to wear it. No, the food is for you, best eat it while he's asleep. Make sure he drinks this, though, it will help the fever to break."

Arthur nods. "And he'll retch that up?"

"There's a bucket beside the bed," Gaius informs him wryly. Arthur snorts.

"Splendid." He reaches for the food, then pauses and says, "Thank you, Gaius."

"My pleasure, your highness."

Arthur stays the night, and when he leaves Merlin leans in the doorway. Arthur has duties he cannot avoid, cannot ignore. Training the knights is one of them.

"You just want to hit them with sticks," Merlin is saying, grinning wearily. "Don't lie, I know."

"Nothing slips by you, does it, Merlin?" Arthur retorts, nodding to Gaius with a half-grin on his lips.

It's rare to see Arthur wear a pure smile- it makes him look far younger than his responsibilities dictate. Gaius smiles back and nods.

"And how is the patient?" he inquires.

"Mouthy. As usual," Arthur retorts before Merlin can say,

"The patient is standing right here!"

"He's better then," Gaius observes urbanely.

"I expect my rooms to be clean when I finish the day, Merlin," Arthur flings over his shoulder.

Merlin rolls his eyes and staggers back into his room. "Prat."

Gaius smiles quietly.

Merlin does manage to get to Arthur's quarters, and this time it is he who does not come home. Gaius is glad; the prince's room is far more comfortable to be ill in.

But it starts happening more and more often, that Merlin fails to come home.

And neither one of them is sick.


End file.
